


"why is this my life?"

by punkhale



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/F, TA!Derek, short and kind of cracky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 07:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 913
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2220669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/punkhale/pseuds/punkhale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Lydia:</b> So I saw your brother f*cking some guy in the janitors closet.<br/><b>Cora:</b> is your phone autocorrecting again?<br/><b>Lydia:</b> No, I really saw your brother going at it in a closet. He has a nice ass.<br/><b>Cora:</b> oh god please don’t ever talk about my brothers ass again</p>
            </blockquote>





	"why is this my life?"

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by [this](http://33.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_lx959jXLv81r5a6a7o8_400.png)

**_Lydia:_ ** _So I saw your brother fucking some guy in the janitors closet._

**_Cora:_ ** _is your phone autocorrecting again?_

**_Lydia:_ ** _No, I really saw your brother going at it in a closet. He has a nice ass._

**_Cora:_ ** _oh god please don’t ever talk about my brothers ass again_

 

To Cora’s horror the guy her brother was apparently closet-fucking was Stiles Stilinski. _Student_ Stiles Stilinski. Which wouldn’t have been so bad if Derek _wasn’t the English TA_.

“I can’t believe you’re having sex on school grounds! In a closet! With a student!” she cried, whapping her brother on the arm. He rubbed the spot where she’d hit him but at least had the decency to look chagrined.

“I don’t see what the problem is,” said Lydia from where she was sitting on the couch. She’d come by the Hale house after school to help Cora with her math homework. Cora was eternally grateful for her girlfriend’s genius-level intellect because there was no way she’d ever get through Calculus without her.

“We have sex in the janitors closet all the time,” Lydia finished.

“Please don’t share that information,” Derek said, face in his hands.

“But I’m not your teacher!” Cora cried, crossing her arms. Why did no one else see a problem with this whole situation?

“You could be,” Lydia replied, her gaze suddenly hot. “You could wear a tie. I have this skirt-”

“Seriously, please stop before I have to go gauge my brain out with a spoon,” Derek groaned.

“After the view I got earlier I’d say this is more than fair,” said Lydia looking nonplussed.

Cora dropped onto the couch next to her girlfriend and leaned her head back to stare at the ceiling. “Why is this my life?”

Lydia patted her leg in a comforting gesture. “It could be worse. He could be fucking Jackson.”

“Don’t be gross,” Derek protested, looking thoroughly offended.

“You’re the one getting it on with Stilinski between the mops and the windex,” said Cora.

Derek threw his hands up. “I’m leaving now.” He left for the kitchen, leaving the two girls alone.

“Are you not at all disturbed by this?” Cora asked, turning to Lydia who was flipping idly through her math book.

“Why should I be? They weren’t in _our_ closet.”

\--

Cora let out a low hiss as Lydia approached her.

“Seriously Lyds?” she asked, trying to sound annoyed instead of hopelessly turned on. Which she was.

The redhead was wearing a short red plaid skirt that did an excellent job of showcasing her creamy legs, and a button up shirt that was gaping at the top and gave Cora a peek at the lacey black bra she wore underneath. The heels weren’t helping anything either and the entire ensemble was the embodiment of a dress code violation.

“What?” Lydia asked, arching one perfectly groomed brow. “You don’t like it?”

Cora reached forward and grabbed her by the hips, yanking her closer so that they were flush up against each other. Lydia let out a small moan as Cora pressed hot kisses to the side of her neck, mouthing at the hollow behind her ear.

“I cannot believe you wore that,” she said, voice low and breathy as she let one hand wander down her leg to toy with the hem of her skirt. They were playing a dangerous game. If anyone came around the corner they’d be in plain view, and the administration typically frowned upon their students feeling each other up against the side of the building.

Cora let her hand slide back up underneath the skirt, brushing her knuckles against the lace of Lydia’s panties. The redhead moaned again, leaning into the touch. Cora kissed her and there was nothing gentle about it. She nipped at her girlfriends lower lip and opened her up with her tongue, all the while slowly rubbing against the heat between her legs.

“I swear to god Hale if you don’t do something else with those fingers-”

Cora applied the tiniest bit of pressure the the spot right over her clit. Lydia gasped and her legs quaked. “What are you going to do about it Martin? Hmmm?”

_“Fuck. Me.”_

Cora laughed. “So impatient. Alright then, but not here. First period gym class will be out here any minute.”

The fact that they made it to the janitor’s closet undetected was a miracle. They were supposed to be in class and they had to duck out of view quite a few times. Cora swung open the door, ready to throw Lydia in and shut them inside.

Only… it was occupied.

_“Are you fucking kidding me?”_

\--

Cora watched as Lydia and Stiles plotted, creating a _schedule_ of all things, on where and when they could respectively be having sex while on school property. Both of them seemed perfectly level-headed and logical about the whole thing, as if was perfectly normal to be scheduling their sex lives.

“I hope you’re happy with yourself,” Cora said, narrowing her eyes at Derek who was sitting on the opposite side of the room from her.

“Oh trust me, “Stiles piped up, “I keep him _very_ happy.”

“And you can continue to keep him happy,” Lydia said, “but _not_ in the third floor storage closet during lunch. We have a claim on it.”

“But that’s the biggest one!”

“Which is exactly while I’ll be fucking my girlfriend in it during lunch.”

Cora buried her face into the couch. “Why is this my life?”


End file.
